Adventures of Bindle by Herbert George Jenkins (early reader chapter books TXT) 📖
- Author: Herbert George Jenkins
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This Bindle Book deals with the further adventures of Joseph Bindle, furniture remover. One of the criticisms levelled at "The Night Club" was that there was not enough of Bindle in it. In the new volume Bindle is there all the time.
The story is told of how he helped Mr. Hearty to advertise his new shop; how Lady Knob-Kerrick's drawing-room was, without her knowledge, turned into billets for soldiers; how Mrs. Bindle decided to take a lodger and what came of it; how Bindle became a porter at the Fulham Square Mansions and let the same flat to two people, and the complications that ensued; how he discouraged the Rev. Andrew MacFie's attentions to his niece, Millie Hearty.
In this volume reappear practically all those in the previous volume, including the gloomy Ginger, Wilkes, Huggles, Lady Knob-Kerrick, Dick Little, "Guggers," Mr. and Mrs. Hearty, "Millikins," together with a number of new characters.
BY THE SAME AUTHORTHE BINDLES ON THE ROCKS
BINDLE
THE NIGHT CLUB
JOHN DENE OF TORONTO
MALCOLM SAGE, DETECTIVE
MRS. BINDLE
PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
THE RETURN OF ALFRED
THE RAIN GIRL
THE STIFFSONS
and other stories
3 DUKE OF YORK STREET, ST. JAMES'S
LONDON, S.W.I
PAULTON (SOMERSET) AND LONDON
[Pg v]
TO THE CHILDREN OF THE DEAD ENDThere are Fairies in the city,
There are Fairies on the down,
When Wee Hughie comes from Ireland
To visit London Town.
There is sunshine in the dungeon,
There is starlight in the grave,
If June will but remember
The things that April gave.
[Pg vi]
[Pg vii]
CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE COMING OF THE LODGER 9 II. A DOWNING STREET SENSATION 20 III. THE AIR-RAID 35 IV. THE DUPLICATION OF MR. HEARTY 41 V. THE GATHERING OF THE BANDS 50 VI. MR. GUPPERDUCK'S MISHAP 61 VII. THE COURTING OF THE REV. ANDREW MACFIE 69 VIII. THE CHAPEL CONVERSAZIONE 80 IX. THE LETTING OF NUMBER SIX 95 X. THE DOWNFALL OF MR. JABEZ STIFFSON 105 XI. THE CAMOUFLAGING OF MR. GUPPERDUCK 117 XII. THE TRAGEDY OF GIUSEPPI ANTONIO TOLMENICINO 123 XIII. THE RETURN OF CHARLIE DIXON 135 XIV. MR. HEARTY YIELDS 142 XV. A BILLETING ADVENTURE 150 XVI. MILLIE'S WEDDING 162[Pg viii]
All the characters in this book are entirely imaginary and have no relation whatsoever to any living persons.
[Pg 9]
ADVENTURES OF BINDLE CHAPTER I THE COMING OF THE LODGERBang! Even Bindle was startled by the emphasis with which Mrs. Bindle placed upon the supper-table a large pie-dish containing a savoury-smelling stew.
"Anythink wrong?" he enquired solicitously, gazing at Mrs. Bindle over the top of the evening paper.
"Wrong!" she cried. "Is there anything right?"
"Well, there's beer, an' Beatty, an' the boys wot's fightin'," began Bindle suggestively.
"Don't talk to me!" Mrs. Bindle banged a plate of stew in front of Bindle, to which he applied himself earnestly.
For some minutes the only sound was that occasioned by Bindle's enjoyment of his supper, as he proceeded to read the newspaper propped up in front of him.
"You're nice company, aren't you?" cried Mrs. Bindle, making a dive with the spoon at a potato, which she transferred to her plate. "I might be on a desert island for all the company you are."
Bindle gazed at Mrs. Bindle over the small bone from which he was detaching the last vestiges of nutriment by means of his teeth. He replaced the bone on the edge of his plate in silence.
"You think of nothing but your stomach," Mrs. Bindle continued angrily. "Look at you now!"
"Well, now, ain't you funny!" remarked Bindle, as he replaced his glass upon the table. "If I'm chatty, you say, ''Old your tongue!' If I ain't chatty, you ask why I ain't a-makin' love to you."
After a moment's silence he continued meditatively: "I kept rabbits, silkworms, an' a special kind o' performin' flea, an' I seemed to get to understand 'em all; but women—well, you may search me!" and he pushed his plate from him as a sign of repletion.
Mrs. Bindle rose from the table. Bindle watched her curiously; it was never wise to enquire what course was to follow.[Pg 10]
"I answered an advertisement to-day," she announced, as she banged an apple-pie on the table.
With difficulty Bindle withdrew his interest from the pie to Mrs. Bindle's statement.
"You don't say so," he remarked pleasantly.
"And about time, I should think, with food going up as it is," she continued, as she hacked out a large V-shaped piece of pie-crust which she transferred to a plate, and proceeded to dab apple beside it.
Bindle regarded her uncomprehendingly.
"In The Gospel Sentinel." She vouchsafed the information grudgingly and, rising, she fetched a paper from the dresser and threw it down in front of Bindle, indicating a particular part of the page with a vicious stab of her fore-finger.
Bindle picked up the paper. The spot indicated was the column headed "Wanted." He read:
"Christian Home wanted by a single gentleman, chapel-goer, temperance, quiet, musical, home-comforts, good-cooking, moderate terms. References given and required. Apply Lonely, c/o The Gospel Sentinel."
Bindle looked up from the paper at Mrs. Bindle.
"Well?" she challenged.
He turned once more to the paper and re-read the advertisement with great deliberation, forgetful of his fast-cooling plate.
"Well," remarked Bindle judicially, "this is a Christian 'ome right enough, plenty of soap an' water, with an 'ymn or two thrown in so as you won't notice the smell. Cookin's good likewise, an' as for 'ome-comforts, if we ain't got 'em, who 'as? There's sweepin' an' scrubbin' an' mats everywhere, mustn't smoke in the parlour unless you 'appen to be the chimney, and of course there's you, the biggest 'ome-comfort of all. Yes! Mrs. B.," he concluded, shaking his head with gloomy conviction, "we got enough 'ome comforts to start a colony, I'm always trippin' over 'em."
"Eat your pie," snapped Mrs. Bindle, "perhaps it'll stop your mouth."
Bindle applied himself to the apple-pie with obvious relish, glancing from time to time at The Gospel Sentinel.
"Well?" demanded Mrs. Bindle once more.
"I was jest wonderin'," said Bindle.
"What about?"[Pg 11]
"I was jest wonderin'," continued Bindle, "why we want a lodger, us like two love-birds a-singin' an' a-cooin' all day long."
"What about the housekeeping?" demanded Mrs. Bindle aggressively.
"The 'ousekeepin'?" enquired Bindle innocently.
"Yes, the housekeeping," repeated Mrs. Bindle with rising wrath, as if Bindle were directly responsible, "the housekeeping, I said, and food going up like—like——"
"'Ell," suggested Bindle helpfully.
"How am I to make both ends meet?" she demanded.
"I suppose they must meet?" he enquired tentatively.
"Don't be a fool, Bindle!" was the response.
"I ain't goin' to be a fool with that there lodger 'angin' about," retorted Bindle. "If 'e starts a-playin' about wi' my 'Ome Comfort, 'e'll find 'is jaw closed for alterations. I'm a desperate feller where my 'eart's concerned. There was poor 'ole 'Orace only the other day. Jest back from the front 'e was."
Bindle paused and shook his head mournfully.
"Horace who?" demanded Mrs. Bindle.
"'Orace Gaze," replied Bindle. "Nice cove too, 'e is.
"''Ullo! 'Orace,' I calls out, when I see 'im jest a-comin' from the station with all 'is kit.
"'Cheerio,' says 'e.
"'The missis'll be glad to see you,' I says.
"'She don't know I'm 'ere yet,' 'e says.
"'Didn't you send 'er a telegram?' I asks.
"'Telegram!' says 'e, 'not 'arf.'
"'Why not?'
"'Lord! ain't you a mug, Joe!' says 'e; 'you don't catch me a-trustin' women, I got my own way, I 'ave,' says 'e, mysterious like.
"'What is it?' I asks 'im.
"'Well, I goes 'ome,' says 'e, ''er thinkin' me at the front, rattles my key in the front door, then I nips round to the back, an' catches the blighter every time!'"
"I won't listen to your disgusting stories," said Mrs. Bindle angrily.
"Disgustin'?" said Bindle incredulously.
"You've a lewd mind, Bindle."
"Well, well!" remarked Bindle, "it's somethink to 'ave a mind at all, it's about the only thing they don't tax as war profits."
"You'll have to be careful when the lodger comes." There was a note of grim warning in Mrs. Bindle's voice.[Pg 12]
"Lodgers ain't to be trusted," said Bindle oracularly. "If you expects 'em to pinch your money-box, orf they goes with your missis; an' if you're 'opin' it'll be your missis, blowed if they don't pouch the canary. No!" he concluded with conviction, "lodgers ain't to be depended on."
"That's right, go on; but you're not hurting me," snapped Mrs. Bindle, rising to clear away. "You always oppose me, perhaps you'll tell me how I'm to feed you on your wages." She stood, her hands on her hips, looking down upon Bindle with challenge in her eye.
"My wages! why, I'm gettin'——"
"Never mind what you're getting," interrupted Mrs. Bindle. "You eat all you get and more, and you know it. Look at the price of food, and me waiting in queues half the day to get it for you. You're not worth it," she concluded with conviction.
"I ain't, Mrs. B.," replied Bindle good-humouredly, "I ain't worth 'alf the love wot women 'ave 'ad for me."
Mrs. Bindle sniffed. "You always was fond of your food," she continued, as if reluctant to let slip a topic so incontrovertible.
"I was, Mrs. B.," agreed Bindle; "an' wot is more I probably always shall be as long as you go on cookin' it. Wot I shall do when you go orf with the lodger, I don't know," and Bindle wagged his head from side to side in utter despondency.
Mrs. Bindle made an unprovoked attack upon the kitchen fire.
"Well," said Bindle after a pause, "if it's rations or a lodger, I suppose it's got to be a lodger," and he drew a deep sigh of resignation. He turned once more to The Gospel Sentinel. "Musical, too, ain't 'e," he continued. "I wonder wot 'e plays, the jews' 'arp or a drum? Seems a rare sport 'e does, chapel-goer, temperance, quiet, musical, fond of 'ome-comforts, good cookin'; an' don't want to pay much; regular blood I should call 'im."
"He's coming to-night to see the place," Mrs. Bindle announced, "and don't you go and make me feel ashamed. You'd better keep out of the room."
"'Ow could you!" cried Bindle reproachfully, as he proceeded to light his pipe. "Me——"
"Don't do that!" snapped Mrs. Bindle.
Bindle regarded her over the flaming match with eyebrows raised interrogatingly.
"Perhaps he doesn't smoke," she explained.
"But I ain't goin' to give up tobacco," said Bindle with decision. "'Oly Angels! me with a wife an a lodger an' no pipe!"[Pg 13]
He looked about him as if in search of sympathy. Then turning to Mrs. Bindle, he demanded:
"You mean to say I got to give up smokin' for a lodger!" Indignation had smoothed out the wrinkles round his eyes and stilled the twitchings at the corners of his mouth.
"It doesn't matter after he's here," Mrs. Bindle responded sagely.
Slowly the set-expression vanished from Bindle's face; the wrinkles and twitches returned, and he breathed a sigh of elaborate relief.
"Mrs. B.," he said admiringly, "you 'aven't lived for nineteen years with your awful wedded 'usband, lovin', 'onourin' an' obeyin' 'im—I don't think—without learnin' a thing or two." He winked knowingly.
"Yes," he continued, apparently addressing a fly upon the ceiling, "we'll catch our lodger first an' smoke 'im afterwards, all of which is good business. Funny 'ow religion never seems to make you too simple to——"
Bindle was interrupted by a knocking at the outer-door. Mrs. Bindle performed a series of movements with amazing celerity. She removed and folded her
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